


A ghost just needs a home

by thesaddestboner



Series: in the shadows [8]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Angst, Detroit Tigers, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Manpain, Not!Fic, Other, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:36:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A deleted scene from the girl!Porcello 'verse post-Rick-changing-back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A ghost just needs a home

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually a deleted scene from this [unfinished thing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/626748). The idea was that after Rick changed back into a guy, he and Max broke up and stopped speaking for a while because they didn't know how to deal, and even though Rick was no longer "Erica," the person Max had first become attracted to and then fallen in love with (—sort of, it's a long convoluted story), the feelings were still there and neither of them knew what to do about their feelings (or if they even should do anything about them).
> 
> I still like the overall idea, but I don't want Rick to change back into a guy which is why this ended up never being finished.
> 
> I also don't think this version of Rick and Max would be this explicit with one another about their feelings. It was sort of just a writing exercise (and a shoddy one at that) that ended up getting removed from a piece I trashed.
> 
> Title from "Weighty Ghost," by Wintersleep.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

Max lets the creased black-and-white photograph flutter down on the tabletop. 

Rick had looked a lot like his mother in those days: a little taller, darker haired, sadder around the eyes. He wishes he’d known Max had been documenting their time together. Max must have known the bubble would burst eventually, that the coach would turn back into a pumpkin and the coachmen back into mice.

“That person— _Erica_ doesn’t exist anymore,” Rick says, pushing the photograph back across the table, under Max’s fingertips. He drops his gaze, refuses to meet Max’s eyes. “Erica never existed.”

Max tucks the photograph safely under his hand. “That doesn’t mean that it wasn’t real.”

“It was,” Rick admits, after a few moments of weighted silence.

Max is quiet as well. Rick watches as he pockets the photograph. “I thought—I guess I thought it would get easier. I’d learn how to deal.” Max laces his fingers together and pressed his mouth against his locked thumbs. He worries at one of his cuticles for a bit before continuing. “Thought maybe I’d just shrug it off like a bad outing or something, ’cause you’re still here and and you’re alive and don’t look the gift horse in the mouth and all that. But it’s not the same, it’s different and—”

“I miss you too,” Rick interrupts, finally raising his eyes to meet Max’s.

Max’s shoulders sag with relief and he inches his hand out, tentatively, across the table. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Me either,” Rick says, reaching out, hooking his index finger with Max’s. If he locks his hand with Max’s, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to let go and he can’t take that risk.

“I loved you,” Max says. The admission feels like a punch to the gut and an exhilarating rush all at once, and Rick isn’t sure what to do with it, if anything. It doesn’t really belong to him anymore. It belongs to a ghost. “I think maybe I still do.”

Rick tightens his finger around Max’s. “Me too.” 

It hurts terribly to admit it, to even allow himself to think it. Allowing it to become real is like thousands of thin-bladed knives piercing his skin, flaying him, leaving him raw and open and bloody. It feels like the wounds will never heal—and maybe they won’t, maybe he’ll always be a little broken after something like this. It’s hard to imagine things going back to normal, back to the way they were before Rick changed.

Max curls Rick’s hand in his own, fingers stroking lightly, almost involuntarily over the back of his knuckles. “You knew that, though,” he says, softly. “Didn’t you?”

Rick feels himself nod. It’s if he’s stepped outside of his body. “Yeah. Did _you_?”

“ _What_?” Max asks.

“Did you know. How I felt,” Rick says, haltingly. 

He’d been terrible at showing it. He knows this, and he knows Max knows it too. Rick wishes he’d had—wishes he’d taken just a little more time to show Max exactly how important he’d been to him. How important _they’d_ been to him.

Max keeps hold of his hand and falls silent, thinning his lips, eyes growing thoughtful and distant. For a second, Rick wonders if he’ll pull his hand away, reject him. 

“Yeah. You—you never said, but I could tell.” Max pauses, licks at his bottom lip as he gathers himself. “I knew it wasn’t easy for you, so I never pushed or anything. I never expected. I was just happy and grateful for what I got.” 

“I’m sorry—” Rick tries, but Max lifts a hand to stop him.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize,” he says. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you,” Rick points out. 

Max glances away. “I could’ve fought harder.” He doesn’t elaborate, but he doesn’t need to. Rick knows immediately what he means.

“It’s not your fault, it’s not anybody’s fault,” Rick says in a breathless rush. “We did what we thought we had to.”

“I just wish . . .” Max lowers his head and trails off with a soft, hollow laugh.

“No, stop.” Rick gets up and pushes his chair in, the legs scraping against the hardwood floor. He steps around the table and comes to Max’s side. Rick reaches a hand out tentatively, fingers grazing lightly over his shoulder.

Max doesn’t look up at him, keeps his eyes on his hands, clasped in front of him on the table. “Rick, I—”

Rick lets his hand come to rest heavily on Max’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Max glances up at him. “Really?”

“Yes.” Rick squeezes his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
